Clouded Senses
by TillThatTime
Summary: When dreams are only wishes and nightmares become reality, hide behind your façade and wish for a relief that can only be brought by the cause. SLASH. BoyxBoy. Oh yes, I said it.
1. Sweat and Clouded Senses

**Disclaimer: **Oh, if I owned this, I would be kicked off Disney in a matter of seconds.

**Authors note: **Ok, this is slash. I've already pointed this out but might as well do it again, because flamers have a hard time noticing my warning when they leave me reviews telling me how "Disgusting" I am. I just wanted to say that before I get a "How dare you" review, I want to say _how dare you _leave a useless flame on my story. Grow up. Fanfiction is for expression and I am only expressing myself. If you do not approve then that's something you'll have to deal with as you get older but I really don't want to hear about it. Yes, I realize this is Disney but in all truth I could really care less. Read my writing and perhaps you'll find, that while the content is not Disney-approved, the writing may be quite enjoyable. Express your opinion to someone who gives a damn, because I know I don't. Most of us live in America and I can and _will_ write what I want. If you do leave a review, don't chicken out and leave it anonymously, and make it creative and not your standard "This is gross" That's just even more pathetic. Also, after reading some of the fics on this fandom, I may write what you deem "disgusting and wrong" but I find the writing on some of these fics to be "Appalling and English teacher vomit worthy." Don't criticize me, criticize your own work and come back when you can put together a piece of work the doesn't resemble a four year olds. Cheers and much love!

TillThatTime

P.S. I'm really quite nice, I promise.

* * *

**Sweat and Little Relief**

Jackson Stewart trudged in through the doors of his house in a huff. The cool air of the air conditioning hit his face in a wave of relief and he absentmindedly reached up with one arm to wipe away the sweat that threatened to fall into his eyes. Letting out a long breath of exhaustion, he made his way over to the all-too-familiar couch that sat empty in the middle of the living room and flopped down with a contented sigh.

Work had been, needless to say, quite hectic, what with it being spring break, and tourists pouring in like the plague and Jackson was intrigued by the idea of sitting on that couch for the rest of the afternoon with nothing to do other than decide what to watch next.

He flipped through the channels of the television with mild interest and great elation from the sheer fact that he finally had the chance to be "bored", which was a privilege that had been denied to him for the past few weeks.

He could feel his eyelids begin to close shut, and he welcomed the thought of a nap without a moments hesitation. However, his hopes were quickly dashed and he cringed when he heard a familiar voice ring clear and unwelcome in his ears. .

"……Jesus Oliver, don't you ever learn?" Catching the end of the conversation that was being shared between his younger sister and one of her best friends, Jackson fiend sleep in hopes that she would leave him alone.

No such luck.

He felt the pillow hit his face and jumped slightly, startled and yet completely unsurprised that his sister had no problem waking him.

"Politeness was never your thing was it, Miley?"

He watched through heavy eyes as she gave him a mock-smug look and answered in a knowing voice. "Please, I'm Hannah Montana, it's in the contract that I have to be polite to people."

"You're not polite to me."

"You're not_ people_."

"Love you too, sis." He said, rolling his eyes and throwing the intruding pillow back in her own face. He turned to the dark-haired boy sitting opposite of Miley on the arm of the couch and gave him a nod of the head, noticing the boy far more than he let on.

"You couldn't of just let me sleep, Miley?" He tried to keep the annoyance out his voice and he tried even harder to not let his eyes stray to the only other occupant in the room besides his sister.

"Eh, sleep on your own time, Jackson." She teased and he didn't hesitate to point out, "This _is_ my own time. I'm off work."

"You've been working a lot lately, haven't you Jackson?" Jackson turned to the boy who had been silent up until that point and he cursed himself as he felt his throat constrict.

"Yeah, spring break." He replied shortly, his voice coming out strained and nervous.

Miley didn't seem to notice and smacked him playfully on the side of the head.

"Well, we'll be back in a couple, Jackson." She told him resolutely, standing up and straightening her recently wrinkled clothing.

"Where you goin'?'

"Beach." She answered shortly, before turning on heel and beckoning Oliver to follow her out. He watched the two retreating fifteen year olds, and let out a huff of breath as they closed the door behind them.

He smacked the side of his head in frustration and let out a harsh curse under his breath.

He found this particular reaction happening a lot when he was around Oliver. Clouded senses, incoherent thoughts, the works.

Jackson had known about his sexuality for a couple of years now and after too long of denial and hatred towards his preferences he had finally grown to accept the reality that boys seemed to be more appealing then girls.

He found it incredibly ironic that when he was younger, he had been like any hormone driven teenager, after anything with a nice ass and dim-witted personality to match. But as much as the ideal of women used to appeal to him when he was younger, on the rare occasion that he actuality had the opportunity to be with one, he found himself disinterested and sick to his stomach.

No one truly knew of Jackson's homosexuality because he deemed that the right moment would come when he could tell his friends and family, and the right moment had never really reared its head at Jackson.

Or so he told himself.

In all truth he was terrified. Terrified at the prospect of humility. Terrified of the idea of hurting his family. Terrified of just fucking every prospect of telling the truth and blowing this cover that he had built securely around himself.

It used to be easy to hide it, because while he found boys to be attractive, he never really had had a set crush on one of them.

Then there was Oliver.

He used to find the younger boy to be somewhat annoying but as the years had passed and features had become more defined, and beliefs held as a child where now modified and rediscovered, annoyance was anything he felt towards the boy anymore.

It was hard to keep himself from staring whenever Miley would bring him over for a school project or what have you, so he subjected himself to just ignoring the boy completely. Feigning disinterest and possibly distaste, so the boy wouldn't discover his faltering demeanor and uncontrollable infatuation.

As time wore on, this masquerade became harder.

At the mere site of the dark haired boy, Jackson's breath would hitch and his heart would speed up.

He occasionally let his eyes linger on Oliver when he thought no one was watching, and he found himself mesmerized by the somewhat pointed features and lopsided grin that the boy would present to the rest of the world when a witty joke was told or an immature gesture was presented to him.

Oliver was a distraction in his busy world.

A distraction that would only prove to be trouble in the long run.

But a distraction nonetheless.


	2. Dreams and Suspicions

Disclaimer: Ugh……don't own….ugh….

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, some from new people, some from people that have read my other stories. All were great. It's late. I'm tired. This chapter might be crap, and I have 50 unread messages in my mailbox that I need to read. My birthday was exhausting. Sleep seems like a welcome opportunity.

Much Love!

Warning: Slash! Don't like, don't read……dork……psh, as if I really care.

**Dreams and Suspicions**

He woke up in a mass of sweat and unfortunate arousal. Memories of the dream that had plagued him through the night were still vivid and fresh in his mind. His skin was hot to the touch as his fingers sought to relieve some of the tension that had built up between his legs. The sweat continued to fall down the base of his neck and he imagined that dark hair and smooth skin was surrounding him, rather than the cool of the night air and the rough callus of his fingertips.

"Oliver.."

The name slipped unchecked from his lips like it had so many nights before and it didn't take a moment of thought to remember who had been the other person in his dream.

It always seemed to be the same, different scenarios, words and settings, but always the same result. Jackson could not remember how many nights he had woken up like this; breathing erratic and far from platonic thoughts running through his head.

He felt the all-too-familiar name ready to spill from his parted lips again, due to his own ministrations, when he heard a soft melody seeping through the thin walls of his room.

"Clouded senses when my fingers touch yours. You're just a reminder of things that I've never felt before…." His sister's voice rang clear in the silent air and his thoughts jumped to, why in the hell was she singing this late anyways. His sister's voice was beautiful, yes, but in the middle of the night, when his frustration was already running high…..

"Give it a rest, will ya Miley? Hannah and me need a break!" He shouted, while pounding on the wall that he knew held his sister on the other side.

He could hear her frustrated groan and mentally scored one for Jackson as he felt a swell of pride for still being able to annoy his sister.

"Just go back to sleep, Jackson." He heard her retaliation and he shot back quickly, "Ah, but how can anyone sleep when a cat is being killed in the next room?"

There was a cry of indignation and a smirk was already forming on his lips when he heard a laugh come from the other room. He knew right away that it wasn't his sister's. No, this laugh was deeper. This laugh was male.

He shot up in his bed quickly, feeling slightly dizzied by the sudden movement, as his mind jumped to who could be in his sister's room. He freed himself from the covers that had twisted around his body and headed out the door of his room to knock promptly on his sister's, arguing to himself that as her older brother it was his duty to take some authority.

Jackson Stewart was a fucking liar.

He didn't even pause to knock as he opened her door, his suspicions proved instantly. There sat Oliver, fully clothed, thank God, and sitting quite innocently across from his sister in a pink, shag chair, making him look out of place and slightly amusing.

"You should learn to knock." His attention was pulled reluctantly away from the other boy as his sister's annoyed and disgruntled tone pulled him from his reverie.

"And you should learn to not bring boys in here in the middle of the night." He shot back almost instantly, not waiting for her to explain herself. "What's he doing here anyways?" His voice rang with suspicion and a less noticeable jealousy. It was hard enough that his sister was best friends with the object of his infatuation but Jackson wasn't sure if he could handle it if there was actually something going on between the girl that he had annoyed since they were little kids and the boy that he couldn't get off his mind.

"Not that it's any of your business, Jackson, but we're working on something for school." A likely story. "Now if you don't mind, get out." She ordered, gesturing towards the door.

"If you needed help with a project then why didn't you just ask me?" Jackson insisted, not quite ready to leave and definitely not believing the story that his sister was feeding to him.

He felt almost offended as his sister gave out an unladylike snort and proceeded to laugh at his suggestion. "Ask for help on homework? From you?" She questioned, in between giggles. "Wow, that's a good one." She added dryly before turning her face away.

"Well, if you're working on homework, then where is the books?" Jackson asked, trying to ignore his sister's last remark. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at the school supply-free room, and saw his sister's face scrunch in a glare.

"Why do you care so much anyways?" She asked pointedly, folding her arms around her small frame.

"Well, I-I-"

"You can stay if you want, Jackson." Both Stewarts jumped at the sound of the voice that had been silent since Jackson first opened the door.

"What?" Miley and Jackson questioned in unison, turning their attention to the boy who sat uncomfortably in the pink, shag chair.

"Well, I mean, if it's such a big deal, you can stay if you want. I don't mind." Oliver said in a soft voice, his eyes not meeting Miley's burning stare.

"Oliver-" She started, her tone confused and dangerous.

"Oh what's the big deal, Miley? It's not like we were doing anything important anyways."

"But-" Jackson could see the hurt shining in his sister's eyes, even though she did her best to cover it. It made him wonder even more what they had actually been doing before he barged in.

"Look, don't worry about it. I'm tired anyways, I'm just going to go back to bed." Jackson said quickly, becoming slightly uncomfortable under the cold gaze that his sister was giving him and the questioning expression that was radiating off the person that was most likely kissing his sister whilst Jackson dreamed of so much more that he could do to the younger boy.

He closed the door quickly behind him, not giving the other two a chance to respond, and headed back for his room, wondering how things had gotten so complicated.


End file.
